


A Daimao Christmas Carol

by coldphoenix



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 21:09:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9566435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldphoenix/pseuds/coldphoenix
Summary: On Christmas Eve, King Piccolo comes across a cloaked stranger who takes him on a journey through his Christmases past, present and future, to make him 'change his ways'. King Piccolo isn't too keen to cooperate!





	1. Annoying Angels

**Author's Note:**

> I thought of this about a week before Christmas 2016 and I was rushing to get it finished in time for Christmas Eve, so please excuse the rushed writing and short chapters. I would have liked to put more depth and detail into this but I just didn't have the time. That being said, I'm hoping it will still be an enjoyable read and I'm aiming for bittersweet tears at the end, so... be warned! And please leave your feedback. Thank you! :)

_Sigh_. Piano gazed woefully out of the window of his cave in Hell, a window that was nothing more than a gaping hole that King Piccolo had blown into the cave wall. They had to make the most of the hand they’d been dealt… Hell wasn’t designed for good people after all, and especially not now. It always felt so peculiar at this time of year; Christmas was a time for families, and for good people that never did anything wrong… It always sort of unsettled Piano that the ogres and angels of Hell encouraged people to celebrate it down here. Why? These weren’t the kind of people that celebrated the season of giving, kindness, family… and much to Piano’s dismay, this time of year always put King Piccolo in such a foul mood! As if he wasn’t enough of a nightmare to live with already, the sight of tinsel and candy canes and the Forest of Death being decorated like a Christmas tree really pissed him off. Piano and his mutant siblings tried their best to avoid him, but it was somewhat difficult when he threw demands at them every five minutes.  
“ **Drum**!”

King Piccolo’s voice bellowed through the cave, causing Piano to shiver. Why did he have to yell? They were all in the same room! “Get me another one of those candy canes!”   
“B-But King Piccolo, we only get one each…” Came Drum’s timid reply as he stared up at his master. “And we already gave you ours…”  
“So go and steal one for me!” King Piccolo snarled. “Take somebody else’s!”   
“But they’ll put me in jail –”   
“Only if you get caught.” King Piccolo hissed, cutting his youngest mutant off.   
“He will.” Cymbal sniped, and Drum shot him an angry glare.   
“Well you go then!” He pouted.   
“No.” King Piccolo spat. “Tambourine and Cymbal are going to burn down that forest, and all those disgusting Christmas decorations along with it.”   
“Wh-What!” Cymbal and Tambourine both gasped, their eyes suddenly widening as they stared at their master in disbelief.   
“But – King Piccolo – we **will** get arrested for that!” Cymbal protested.   
“Or worse!” Tambourine cried. “I mean – Cell’s kids helped decorate that forest! He’ll literally erase us if he finds out we –” He stopped talking, and his heart sank in despair when a look of glee quickly spread itself across King Piccolo’s face. Okay… Well, Tambourine knew King Piccolo enjoyed seeing people get hurt and killed, but… did that include his own children…? Since when!   
“Good. I need some gore to balance out all the crap that’s going on around here.” King Piccolo sniggered nastily, and glared at Tambourine and Cymbal. “Go.”   
“But –”  
“ _ **Did I stutter**_!”  
“Aii!” The mutants all screamed as King Piccolo’s booming voice bellowed through the cave, making it shake so wildly the roof almost collapsed.

Tambourine and Cymbal looked at Piano pleadingly, silently begging their wisest brother to think of any way they could get out of this. They didn’t want to die! And if they messed with Cell’s kids’ Christmas decorations, they definitely **would** die! Piano simply stared back at them, in complete understanding of their dilemma. Hm… Well, Piano didn’t want his brothers to die… but on the other hand, King Piccolo had given an order, and he knew rhea price of defying King Piccolo. … Meh. Rather than them him.   
“Well, hop to it, Boys.” Piano instructed. “You heard him. He wants Christmas destroyed.”   
_“You **bastard**!”_ Tambourine snarled telepathically. _“You know Cell will kill us, right?”_  
“Don’t be such idiots.” Piano argued back, having quickly formulated a plan. _“Remember the hundreds of thousands of children King Piccolo created three hundred years before you were born? The ones that look exactly like you two but with half the brain power, as if that were at all possible?”_  
“Yeah…?” Cymbal dumbly replied.   
_“Just blame it on one of them, you idiots! Cell won’t know the difference, you all look the same.”_  
“Oh…” Tambourine grunted, a smile spreading across his wide lips. _“Good idea – thanks, bro!”_  
“But Piano, what am I supposed to do?” Drum asked. _“He wants me to steal other people’s candy – what if I get arrested? I’ll miss out on Christmas!”_  
“Trust me, on Christmas day you’ll be much safe in a prison cell than here with him, Drum. If I were you, I’d try to get arrested.” Piano replied. It was true… King Piccolo had been getting grumpier and grumpier by the day, angered at how close they were getting to Christmas, and now that it was Christmas Eve Piano was dreading tomorrow. Drum would be much safer elsewhere… especially considering he was the strongest and most loyal of King Piccolo’s children, which would only make him a more enjoyable target when King Piccolo inevitably decided to relieve his stress by beating everyone around him to a pulp.   
“Hey!” King Piccolo barked, glaring down at the mutants. “What are you still doing here? **Move**!”  
“ _ **Aii**_!” Tambourine, Cymbal and Drum all cried out and leapt out of the way as King Piccolo stared hurling ki blasts at them, and they had no choice but to run out of the cave.

Piano looked up at his master, and sighed inwardly.   
“Can I get you a drink, King Piccolo?” He offered, somewhat dreading the answer.   
“Yes.” King Piccolo snorted. “I want blood.” He moved his eyes to a sharp, pointed rock sticking out of the wall. “Use that over there.”   
“Oh… my blood again.” Piano sighed. _“Are you going to drink it this time or just throw it at me and laugh?”_  
“Hm?” King Piccolo grunted, and frowned at the thoughtful expression on Piano’s face. “What are you thinking?”   
“Nothing!” Piano shrieked. Crap! “Right away, Sire!” He bolted off to get an empty glass, and when he returned he wasted no time in slitting his own wrists to bleed into it. Ugh… How had it come to this? This was the opposite of Christmas!

xxxxx

Meanwhile, over in Frieza’s cave, Zarbon was also staring out of the window, trying to block out the sounds of seven candy-fuelled Cell Juniors behind him. Ugh. Zarbon hated Christmas. The kids always got so hyper… and they were already hyper little shits to begin with.   
“And I want a bike and a kitten and a spaceship –”  
“And more chocolate!”   
“And a big house!”   
“And an Xbox!”   
“And a park!”   
“Children.” Frieza hissed, trying to numb the pain of their voices with his tenth bottle of wine. “You’ll get the same as last year. _Nothing_. This is Hell, not a mall. Where are we supposed to get all those things?”   
“But the angels said anyone who’s been good can have a present!” One of the Juniors protested.   
“Exactly.” Frieza replied with a nasty smirk. “So you evil trouble-causing little brats will get **nothing**.”  
“ _ **Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaa**_!” Frieza flinched as the Juniors suddenly erupted into tears. Tch. How irritating.   
“Oh – **Frieza**!” Cell barked, glaring at his lover. “Why did you have to say such horrible things!”   
“Stop mollycoddling them. They need to hear the truth.” Frieza snorted, and smirked at the children. “They’re horrible naughty little boys who don’t deserve to get any presents from Santa.”   
“ _ **Waaaaaaaaaa**_!” The Juniors wailed louder, causing a look of sadness to fall upon Cell’s face.   
“Boys – don’t listen to him!” Cell insisted. “Look – I promise, _I_ will make sure you each get a present, okay?”   
“Humph. Where from?” Zarbon sniped. “Our personal supply of chocolate?” He paused, and his eyes widened. “Cell –”  
“Don’t even think about it!” Frieza barked at Cell.   
“Humph.” Cell grunted, and shot him a nasty glare. “Well, either start gathering presents yourself or they’re having your stuff.”   
“How about we just try and teach them how to behave…?” Dodoria mumbled from the corner of the room. “Then maybe they’d actually earn a present from Santa?”   
“That’s a stupid idea, they’re a lost cause.” Frieza sniped. “Dodoria – go and take them for a walk, and let them pick out something for tomorrow.”   
“What, you mean… just let them walk about eyeing up people’s stuff?” Dodoria frowned. “And then you want me to rob it?”   
“Oh good, you understand.” Frieza retorted, and narrowed his eyes at Dodoria. “Now _go_.”  
“… Fine.” Dodoria sighed, knowing full well that disobeying Lord Frieza would only make his miserable Hell-bound existence worse. “Come on, Kids. Let’s go visit the saiyans.”   
“Yay!” The Cell Juniors all exclaimed, suddenly cheering up.   
“Saiyans always have cool stuff!”   
“It gets less cool every year though…”  
“That’s because we’ve already stolen all the good stuff for you.” Dodoria growled. “Come on!” He left the cave, with the Cell Juniors following eagerly behind.

Zarbon went back to looking out of the window, and smirked slightly at the sight of the Ginyu Force exchanging Secret Santa gifts.   
“I’m glad we didn’t do Secret Santa.” He commented.   
“Why?” Cell asked. “You seriously wouldn’t know what to get us?”   
“No.” Zarbon replied. “It’s just… there’s nothing you could get down here that would even be half as valuable as I’d want. Cheap presents irritate me.”   
“Mm…” Frieza mused, closing his eyes in reminiscence. “Pleasing you always was so costly…”  
“But – it’s the thought that counts, right?” Cell asked.   
“Nope.” Frieza and Zarba both replied. “The value.” 

Cell simply let out a sigh. He didn’t get rich people…  
“Oh.” Zarbon uttered, noticing more activity outside. “Those angels are here. You know, from the rehabilitation program.”   
“Remind me.” Frieza mumbled, pouring himself another glass of wine.   
“You know… It’s a new program you can sign up to.” Zarbon explained. “One of Hell’s angels will come to you dressed in some hideous cloak and show you visions of your Christmases past, present and future. If you learn to change your ways at the end of it, you get to go to Heaven.” He looked at Frieza. “Remember? They’ve been advertising the program for weeks.”   
“Humph.” Frieza snorted. “Who in their right mind would sign up to something as ridiculous as that? This is Hell! It’s full of villains with no intention of changing their ways! Anybody who’s pathetic enough to agree to such a feeble program doesn’t deserve to be here.”   
“Well… That’s sort of the point…” Zarbon mumbled.   
“Hm. Well, even if you don’t learn something… it must be nice to have a change of scenery for a while.” Cell yawned. “This place gets so tedious…”  
“Hmm…” Frieza purred, and smirked at him wickedly. “Well Dear, now that the children are out, do you want to torture Zarbon again?”   
“ _Again_?” Zarbon groaned exhaustedly. “Fine…” He sighed, and looked at them sternly. “But no biting! It **hurts**!”  
“Hahaha!” Frieza and Cell started cackling evilly, and approached their beautiful slave.

xxxxx

_Slurp_. Meanwhile, over in King Piccolo’s cave, Piano watched in disgust as King Piccolo drank from the goblet of blood that Piano had so kindly offered to him.   
“Hm.” King Piccolo grunted. Piano waited, watching his master as he swirled the blood around in his mouth, as if he were genuinely appreciating its flavour. King Piccolo had been known to drink the blood of his victims as some sort of sick, twisting way of mocking them, but this wasn’t quite the same. Piano didn’t think he would drink it. In fact, he knew he wouldn’t. Wait for it… Wait for it… _Spit_! “Ha!” King Piccolo exclaimed, his eyes lighting up at the look of anger on Piano’s face as the mutant found himself covered in his own blood, and a little of King Piccolo’s spit. “You blood tastes like **weakness**!” King Piccolo threw the glass at Piano, and sniggered when it smashed against the mutant’s head, missing his eyes by millimetres. “Get me another glass!”   
“That was the last one, Sire.” Piano hissed through gritted teeth. Jackass… The _jackass_! Piano **hated** this time of year! Why was Christmas the only time of year when King Piccolo seemed to get the most enjoyment out of torturing _his own_ family? That was the exact opposite of what Christmas was about!   
“Well then, go find another!” King Piccolo ordered. “Otherwise I’ll have to drink out of rocks, and if I have to do that then believe me, I **won’t** spare your eyes!”   
“Y-Yes, Sire!” Piano whimpered, and darted out of the cave in search of a new glass.

King Piccolo snorted, and leant back in his chair. Hm. He was bored… Maybe it was time for a nap. Hm… Chair or bed? Chair or bed…? King Piccolo took his time deciding; there wasn’t nearly enough to do around here, and he found that long decision making helped pass the time. Chair or bed…? Chair or bed…?  
“ _Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way_ …” King Piccolo clenched his fists and snarled in annoyance as the repulsive noise of people singing Christmas songs started coming from outside. Bed! Definitely bed! But not before erasing the culprits. With a cruel smirk upon his face, King Piccolo made his way over to the window. He stuck his hand out of it, and aimed at the singers… _**Boom**_!  
“Ha!” King Piccolo exclaimed as he watched the cheerful Christmas celebrators disappear into nothing but ash, their souls erased from existence forever. Perfect! What were they doing down here anyway? This was a place for villains, not a bunch of joy-spreading Christmas-celebrating bleeding hearts!   
“Now… what that really necessary?”   
“Hm?”

King Piccolo frowned at the sound of a voice he didn’t recognise. Who the hell was that? He turned around, to see a cloaked figure standing there. He couldn’t see their face behind their hood, but they were about his height… He couldn’t sense their energy, though. What the hell! “Who are you!” King Piccolo demanded.   
“King Piccolo?” The figured asked.   
“Yes!” King Piccolo barked. “Who’s asking?”   
“I’m here to take you on a trip.” The figure answered. “Through your Christmases past, present and future.”   
“Wha – no way!” King Piccolo snarled. “I told them I’m not doing that crap! Now move out of my way, I’m taking a nap.” He forcefully pushed past the figure, nudging them as harshly as he could. Really, he wanted to destroy them… but these stupid Hell angels were invincible – to the dead villains, at least. Although… if this moron ever tried to turn him into a do-gooder again, King Piccolo would certainly try to break a few of his bones. They could still feel pain, right?   
“I do think you should re-consider.” The voice came from behind him, following him through the cave.   
“Fuck you!” King Piccolo argued back. “Get out of my house, you bleeding heart piece of crap!” He made his way into the section of the cave that was reserved solely for him, and moved his eyes down to the worn, dirty, broken mattress that was his bed. Ahh… time to sleep away this terrible evening. Maybe when he awoke Christmas would have been and gone, and those useless mutant children of his might have stolen some useful things for him. Or something to eat, at least…  
“King Piccolo.” The voice came from behind him **again**. Dammit!   
“What is wrong with you!” King Piccolo snarled, turning to face the figure with his fists clenched, ready to break the angel’s bones. “I said **no** –”

_Punch_. In a single blow, the cloaked figure knocked King Piccolo out cold.


	2. Christmas Past

_I'll have a Blue Christmas without you_  
_I'll be so blue just thinking about you_  
_Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree_  
_Won't be the same dear, if you're not here with me_

King Piccolo awoke to the faint sound of a Christmas song. What the hell…? Where was that music coming from…? His eyes steadily came into focus, and he gazed in bewilderment at his new surroundings. This… wasn’t Hell… What…? Where was he…?  
“You’re awake, I see.” _What_!

King Piccolo leapt onto his feet, and turned to see the cloaked Hell angel standing behind him. Oh, that guy! Seriously! “I didn’t know you slept with your eyes open.” The angel said. “Is that because you’ve grown up with nobody except yourself to protect you?” He hung his covered head, and his voice seemed to sadden a little. “That’s… a shame. Truly terrible. I’m sorry.”  
“Shut up.” King Piccolo snarled. “I said I didn’t want to do this stupid program! It’s supposed to be a choice, isn’t it?”  
“Do you really think you deserve choices?” The angel questioned. “After the life you’ve lived?”  
“Tch. do you pity me or despite me?” King Piccolo spat. “Make up your mind, you pathetic weakling. Who are you, anyway?”  
“Right now?” The angel replied. “The ghost of Christmas Past.” 

King Piccolo looked around. Christmas Past? What was he talking about? This was just… … It was Earth. Christmas time… on Earth. Had he been revived…? “Come.” The cloaked figure said. “Let me show you how you ruined somebody’s Christmas.”  
“Sounds entertaining.” King Piccolo replied with a smirk. He followed the angel to a nearby house, hastily looking around for an escape route. Whether he was alive or not, if he was on Earth that meant he could gather the dragonballs, and wish himself back! But… then again, in this timeline would they work…? King Piccolo thought about it for a moment. No… If this really was a mere vision of the past, then nothing King Piccolo did here would matter… _**Dammit**_! This was so damn frustrating! Why the fuck was he here! “Take me back to Hell!” King Piccolo demanded angrily. “I’m not some bleeding-heart sap who’s about to change their evil ways, you mindless idiot! This is a complete waste of both our time – take me back **now**!”  
“Ssh.” The angel whispered, and pointed to the downstairs window of the house. “Look.”

King Piccolo glanced through the window, and flinched at the disgusting vision inside. Ugh. He didn’t want to see that. It was a happy family, gathered around their Christmas tree. The children were playing with their toys; the mother kissing the father’s cheek in fondness, the father smiling back as if he wasn’t bored of her after all these years… Disgusting.  
“Why am I looking at this!” King Piccolo demanded. He raised his palm and formed a ki ball, ready to blow the family to pieces. “This is pathetic –”

_**Boom**_! Somebody beat him to it. King piccolo leapt back as the house exploded before his very eyes, turning into a pile of ash and taking with it the happy family inside. “What the –” king Piccolo looked up, his eyes scanning the sky for whatever had just destroyed **his** target. Then… he saw them. He recognised them immediately. Those were… his children.  
“You don’t remember your first Christmas as King Piccolo?” The angel questioned. “Before you were sealed away, you and your army ruined Christmas for thousands of people.”  
“Oh…” King Piccolo uttered, a wide grin sweeping across his face as his eyes lit up in delight. “Now I remember!” He watched with pride and with glee as his children flew through the sky, blowing up houses left and right. People were starting to panic; the once quiet and empty Christmas streets soon became filled with terrified people running for their lives. The screams, the crying… Now **this** was King Piccolo’s kind of Christmas!  
“How does this make you feel?” The angel asked. “Look at what you’re doing to these people.”  
“I know!” King Piccolo grinned. “It’s fabulous!”  
“Really…?” The angel sighed. “You don’t think this is wrong?”  
“Of course I do! That’s why I like it!” King Piccolo declared. “Why is it so hard for you to understand? I’m **evil**! Pure evil. This sort of thing is fun for me!” He returned to watching his children’s reign of terror, the reflections of fires and explosions glimmering in his eyes. In just a few short minutes his children had made this city the most dangerous place to live in the world. It was… incredible. “… Great fun.”

Dammit, this was ridiculous. He couldn’t just stand here and watch! King Piccolo had never realised just how much he missed terrorising the innocent. The truly innocent. Little boys and girls, families, pure-hearted souls… They were so much more satisfying than those moronic convicts he terrorised in Hell. He had to get in on this! This could be his once chance to feel… alive!  
“Well… I’m sorry you feel that way.” The angel spoke, gazing in sorrow at the mayhem that was unfolding before his very eyes. “But tell me, why do you – **hey**!” He cried out as King Piccolo suddenly bolted away, as fast as he could. “Come back here!”

King Piccolo soared through the sky, sniggering at the sound of the angel screaming behind him. Ha! The idiot. He didn’t know King Piccolo at all, did he? Granted, this had been a risky move… King Piccolo couldn’t sense the angel’s energy; he had no idea if he’d be able to outrun him… but fuck it. What was the worst that could happen? He’d be sent back to Hell – which was what he’d wanted all along! Or, that pathetic bleeding heart angel wouldn’t be able to catch up to him, and King Piccolo could have as much fun as he wanted. It was well and truly a win-win situation – and King Piccolo was _long_ overdue one of those.  
“Hey!” King Piccolo barked, flying into a large group of his minions. “You freaks! Listen!”  
“King Piccolo?” They blinked, looking at him in surprise. “What are you doing here?”  
“We thought you were in your castle?”  
“Never mind that – you see this guy here?” King Piccolo pointed at the cloaked figure, who was rapidly catching up to him.  
“Uh-huh.” The mutants nodded.  
“I’m ordering you to kill him. He is your new target, understand?”  
“Uh… yeah?” The mutants mumbled, confused.  
“Wonderful!” King Piccolo grinned. “Bye, then!” He darted off again, leaving his mutants to hold back his overly-trusting guardian while he had a night of fun.  
“ _ **Piccolo**_!” The figure screamed, chasing after King Piccolo. “Come back here this – oh.” He stopped in mid-air, suddenly blocked by the loyal mutants. “Boys.” He held his hands up. “Move out of the way. I don’t want to harm you – I have come here from Hell, and I need to transport your master to –”  
“Shut up.” One of the mutants snarled, and like the obedient minions they were they dove on the angel. 

He tried his best to escape without hurting them, but eventually he had no choice. They weren’t going to give up until he was torn to pieces; the only way he could get past them was to either kill them or knock them out. The angel chose the latter. He knocked out the mutants one by one, sending them falling to the ground. Dammit! He didn’t want to have to do that. Not that it mattered… This world was merely a replicated vision of the past; nothing that he or King Piccolo did here would affect anything, but… he couldn’t let the mutants fall like that. From this height they would be injured and he just… he didn’t want to see it, as stupid as that was. Annoyed at himself for caring, the angel grabbed each of the mutants before they hit the ground, and he placed them down gently, so that they wouldn’t feel a thing. Okay… That was them dealt with at least. Well, this was all going terribly, the angel had to admit. Why hadn’t he guessed that King Piccolo would run for it? He should have guessed King Piccolo would run for it! Of course! There was destruction and mayhem everywhere, of **course** King Piccolo would want to join in the fun!  
“Stupid.” The angel cursed himself for being so foolish, and he looked around for any sign of King Piccolo. No… nothing. He’d be miles away by now, and he was suppressing his energy enough to make himself untraceable. This was… a disaster.

_And when those blue snowflakes start falling  
That's when those blue memories start calling_

**Dammit**! The cloaked angel punched the ground, enraged at himself for letting King Piccolo escape. What would King Yemma say if he found out about this? He might pull King Piccolo back to Hell early, and end this whole thing right now… No. No, that couldn’t happen. The angel wouldn’t allow it. They were going to finish this program, whether King Piccolo cooperated or not! The angel looked around, desperately trying to think of a plan. Okay, okay… Think. Think think think. What did he know about King Piccolo? Other than the fact that he knew how to supress his ki! There must be some other way of finding him… The angel scanned the area for any clue, hoping that something – _anything_ ¬ would give him an idea… … … Wait. The angel stopped at the sight of a public trash can, overloaded with candy wrappers and drink cartons. Sweet drinks… Aha! That was it. Okay!

_You'll be doin' all right, with your Christmas of white  
But I'll have a blue, blue blue blue Christmas_

“ _ **Aii**_! Help! Somebody!”  
“Mommy!”  
“Help!” King Piccolo listened in glee to the sound of terrified humans as they tried their best to escape his attacks. This was wonderful! He really had missed the sound of innocent screams… it was truly divine. This was the best Christmas he’d had in years! And now that he’d made this part of the city sufficiently terrified, it was time for a change of scenery. King Piccolo wasn’t sure how long he had here after all, and he wanted to make sure he terrorised as much of the world as he could. Perhaps next he should try… the south of the city. Then after that, the sea – he wanted to hit the water with a ki blast so strong it set off tidal waves all over the world. That would _really_ scare people. Hahaha!  
“Hey!” King Piccolo shouted over to a group of his mutant children, whom he’d ordered to assist him in his fear-spreading. “Come on, this way!” He changed direction and headed for the south of the city. From what he recalled, that was a mostly residential area… It would be much more fun to destroy.

He flew through the air, half-listening to the sound of his children flying a few feet behind him. Hm… That was odd. They seemed to be getting further away… Why were they slowing down? King Piccolo looked back at them; they were hovering on the spot, looking thoughtful… Were they talking telepathically? What about! “What’s the matter!” King Piccolo demanded angrily, enraged that they would dare speak behind his back. “I never permitted you to speak amongst yourselves, you worthless pieces of crap!”  
“S-Sorry, King Piccolo!” The mutants cried, rapidly approaching him.  
“It’s just that… some of the others guys said there’s a giant melon soda stand giving away free samples!” One of them gasped. “But like – huge samples! Like, all you can drink!”  
“Can we go, King Piccolo?” One of them pleaded. “Please?”  
“Melon soda?” King Piccolo snorted. “What the hell are you talking about? This city is filled with all the food and drink you could possibly want – what’s so special about a free giveaway? **Everything** is free to you, you idiots!”  
“Yeah, but… this is like, a _huge_ amount of melon soda.” One of the mutants said. “Like the entire city’s supply.”  
“Tch. bullshit.” King Piccolo snorted. “There’s no more melon soda over there than there is right here.” Humph. Idiots. Why was he even entertaining this? He had no time for such a ridiculous discussion! Why did they even care about this stand anyway? If they wanted a soda then why didn’t they just break into a store and take one? Or a hundred, whatever! What was so special about this stand? What, because it was free? Why should that make a difference? Since when did **his** children care about paying for stuff? These must be some of the more recent ones… King Piccolo’s egg quality had started to deteriorate after a while; he had to admit he’d gotten a little lazy towards the end… The last hundred or so of his offspring were practically brain-dead. Brain-dead enough to stop and have a lengthy discussion about melon soda in the middle of a terror spree! … Hm. Still… Now that he thought about it, all this terrorising _had_ made King Piccolo thirsty… He hadn’t had a melon soda in years… … Hm. “Where is this stand, anyway?” King Piccolo grunted, and the mutants’ faces lit up as they started to lead the way.

xxxxx

King Piccolo landed in front of a brightly coloured melon soda stand, which had in front of it an array of large, heavy steel barrels that he could only assume contained melon soda. A couple of his mutant children were there already there, making holes in the barrels and helping themselves to its contents.  
“Cool!” The mutants accompanying King Piccolo exclaimed, and proceeded to take the free melon soda. King Piccolo watched the scene with a look of scepticism on his face. This was… weird. This stand didn’t seem to be manned, unless one of his children had killed its manger. That was a possibility. But still… There was no obvious sign of a body, and the stand was completely intact. Surely if his children had gone after the manager there would be at least some signs of a struggle? These dimwits weren’t the most graceful of creatures…  
“… Where’s the server?” King Piccolo demanded.  
“Oh – he went to use the bathroom.” One of the mutants answered.  
“And he left this unattended?” King Piccolo frowned. Well, if it was free then it hardly mattered if the drink was taken, but… … why was this stand even here? King Piccolo had expected it to be advertising some company or other, or at least coated in Christmas messages. But… This was just a plain wooden stall, with absolutely no marketing or explanation of its existence whatsoever. What was it doing here? This wasn’t right. Something was too unusual about this. King Piccolo couldn’t understand why… … Oh, **crap**!

King Piccolo turned around, and his heart sank as his suspicions were confirmed. There he was. The cloaked angel, standing before King Piccolo after waiting for him to come and get a free soda. Dammit! King Piccolo **knew** there was something odd about this stand! Why did he **ever** listen to those bone-idol mass-produced morons!  
“You worked it out.” The angel spoke. “Well done.”  
“ _Ugh_!” King Piccolo didn’t even have time to react before he found himself being punched in the skull, once again knocked out cold. 

_You'll be doin' all right, with your Christmas of white,  
But I'll have a blue, blue, blue blue Christmas_


	3. Christmas Present

_It'll be lonely this Christmas_   
_Without you to hold_   
_It'll be lonely this Christmas_   
_Lonely and cold_   
_It'll be cold, so cold_   
_Without you to hold_   
_This Christmas_

When King Piccolo awoke he wasn’t on Earth anymore. He was… back in Hell? Humph. So it looked like that do-gooder had given up on trying to change him. Good! King Piccolo couldn’t be changed! Still… this was annoying. He’d actually been having fun in the past; if only he hadn’t listened to those idiot children of his, he could have spent the whole of Christmas terrorising Earth! Well… now he’d have to terrorise Hell twice as hard. Actually, three times as hard if that racket didn’t stop! King Piccolo let out an agonised grunt and his face twisted in disgust at the sound of a Christmas song playing around him. Tch. Really, this was Hell! Why were they playing Christmas songs! And why was it so depressing? Wasn’t Christmas supposed to be a happy time filled with cheer and upbeat music? Not that King Piccolo was complaining… He would much rather listen to a song about loneliness and depression; it was more fitting for Hell, after all. Humph. Whatever… He had terrorising to do. Still half-asleep, King Piccolo attempted to stand up and fly away… Then he noticed. His body wasn’t moving. He was… constricted. Oh, _**fuck**_! The **bastard**!

King Piccolo snarled angrily, fighting to break out of the chains that were keeping him well and truly immobilised. He was gagged as well – that bastard had gagged him! King Piccolo tried desperately to spit the gag out, but to no avail. What the hell! This was bullshit! That angel had absolutely no right to keep him like this! No right at all!   
“ _ **Mmpf**_!” King Piccolo snarled viciously, throwing himself around like a madman in a desperate attempt to break himself free. “Lff mm gg! _**Nww**_!”  
“Stop squirming.” The angel’s voice came from behind him. King piccolo rolled over, and glared fiercely at the cloaked figure. “And don’t look at me like that – you’ve made it quite clear that you can’t be trusted.

He made his way over to King Piccolo and knelt down beside him. He lowered his head, and gazed down at the demonic namek that was certainly wishing him dead… then he chuckled. “What a face.” The angel said. “It amazes me that you haven’t managed to find yourself a partner. So cute…” He placed his gloved hand on King Piccolo’s head, and King Piccolo flinched away angrily, offering the angel a vicious snarl and an even more deadly glare.   
“ _ **Gff ott**_!” King Piccolo screamed through his gag. “Crfff!” He tried to look up the hood, to see who the hell this angel was. He couldn’t see… but there was something weird about him! Why was he touching King Piccolo? Was he gay or something? The creep! And why was he so insistent on putting King Piccolo through this program, when King Piccolo was obviously such a terrible candidate? He wasn’t going to learn anything! Didn’t this moron know that? Who was he!   
“It’s no good shouting.” The angel spoke. “Now… I’m going to remove your gag – and I want you to be mature about it. No yelling, you understand?”   
“ _ **Ffff yuu**_!” King Piccolo screamed back, blatantly refusing to cooperate.   
“Fine…” The angel sighed. “It was a long-shot, I suppose. You’re stubborn, aren’t you?”

He removed the gag from King Piccolo’s mouth, and the furious demon wasted no time in going berserk.   
“ _ **Let me go**_!” He roared, flailing wildly against his chains. “You gay freak! What the hell is wrong with you! Who are you! _**Explain yourself**_!”  
“Stop squirming!” The angel cried, throwing his weight onto King Piccolo in an attempt to contain him. “You’ll hurt yourself!”   
“I’ll hurt **you**!” King Piccolo snarled, and before the angel had time to react King Piccolo threw his face onto him.   
“ _ **Aiiiiii**_!” The angel shrieked loudly when King Piccolo sank his sharp teeth into the angel’s arm, almost ripping it off. “Get off me!”

He instinctively pushed King Piccolo away with tremendous force, almost knocking the demon out. The force of his attack sent King Piccolo flying through the air, and he landed a few feet away with a loud thud that caused the ground to shake around him. King Piccolo gagged, and grunted in pain as the impact of the angel’s attack and his heavy landing cascaded through his body, slamming through every one of his muscles and causing him to ache all over. “Oh no!” The angel gasped, suddenly panicked. He hastily crawled over to King Piccolo and put his arms around him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you that hard!” He protested, scooping King Piccolo up into a sitting position. “Are you alright?”   
“ **Fuck you**!” King Piccolo roared, and spat at the angel. “Let me go, you worthless piece of shit!” He screamed. “Who are you! Answer me **now**!”  
“Stop asking.” The angel growled, and let out a sigh. “Why are you so difficult?”   
“Why are you here!” King Piccolo retorted. “Get this into your thick head, I do **not** want to do this program! You don’t have my consent, and you’re wasting your time! I’m evil, okay? Pure evil! I like being evil, I like terrorising people, I like killing, I like spreading fear and I like ruining Christmas – and no matter what you say or do I am **not** going to change because I _**don’t want to**_! Now **let me go**!”  
“Really?” The angel sniped, unfazed by King Piccolo’s obvious aggression. “You like how you are now?”   
“Yes!” King Piccolo barked.   
“You don’t want to be any different?”   
“No!”   
“… Well… fine.” The angel shrugged. “But… maybe you will change your mind, when I show you your next vision.”   
“Oh yeah?” King Piccolo snorted. “What is it? More of my victims? That’s entertaining for me, you do know that? I loved seeing what I did to my victims!”   
“These aren’t your victims.” The angel replied. “Or at least… I hope not.”

He grabbed hold of King Piccolo, who proceeded to curse and flail against the angel’s grasp. The angel persevered, raising King Piccolo up to the highest point in Hell, from which King Piccolo could see for miles around. Then, he loosened his grip, and he pointed. “Look.” The angel instructed.   
“What?” King Piccolo grunted.   
“Look at what your life has become.” The angel sighed. “And the lives of your children.”   
“What?” King Piccolo snarled. What the hell was he talking about? Reluctantly, King Piccolo followed the angel’s finger, to see that he was pointing to Tambourine and Cymbal. … No. No, it wasn’t Tambourine and Cymbal. It was a couple of the older mutants, the ones King Piccolo had just seen in the past. They were being approached by Cell… Then attacked by Cell… Oh. King Piccolo flinched slightly as he watched the mutants being beaten to a bloody mess, then they disappeared. Erased from existence, their souls destroyed. Just like that. It took mere seconds. … Hm. King Piccolo moved his gaze to the Forest of Death. All the Christmas decorations were gone, presumably removed by Tambourine and Cymbal, as instructed. Then when Cell found out they must have placed the blame on their older brothers… … Hm. That was quite a clever idea for them. Piano must have thought of it. Either way, King Piccolo wasn’t particularly concerned about the deaths of those two older mutants. They didn’t even have names.   
“Tambourine and Cymbal have died.” The angel spoke. “After following **your** instructions.”   
“That wasn’t Tambourine and Cymbal.” King Piccolo replied flatly.   
“You know the difference…?” The angel spoke. He sounded… somewhat pleased.   
“Of course I do!” King Piccolo barked. “I spat them out myself! For all the good it did.” He snorted. “Every last one of them was a complete waste of time.”   
“And yet, you put the effort into telling them apart.” The angel said. He turned to look at King Piccolo. “It doesn’t sadden you?” He questioned. “Seeing your children die, and knowing it was your fault?”   
“Oh – shut up!” King Piccolo spat. “They’re already dead! And if they had any brains about them they would blame it on someone else! They **all** look the same, they could blame any of their brothers!”   
“Perhaps they didn’t want their brothers to be erased.” The angel reasoned.   
“Humph.” King Piccolo grunted. “Or they were too stupid to think of that in time.”   
“Piccolo, you don’t feel _anything_?” The angel cried. “Your children have perished! When you were old it would trouble you so much –”  
“When I was old I was tired and weak.” King Piccolo growled. “But now I can think clearly. Not a single one of those morons could slay my enemies – none of my children could defeat Goku and the one that I trusted to avenge me has turned his back on me and betrayed me – why would I **ever** give a crap about a single one of them?”   
“… What about Drum?” The angel questioned.   
“ _ **What about him**_!”

King Piccolo’s entire body began to shake. He was so angry… He could barely contain it! What the hell was going on! Why was this sap interrogating him about his children? They were his children, to do with as he pleased! If he wanted to send them on a suicide mission, that was nobody’s business but his own! It was nothing to do with this angel – who **still** hadn’t revealed his identity! Who was he anyway? Why was he so interested in King Piccolo? And why did he know so much about him? Now that King Piccolo thought about it… why had he picked a melon soda stand to trick King Piccolo? How did he know King Piccolo liked that drink? _**Who was he**_!  
“Look.” The angel pointed.   
“What!” King Piccolo barked.

He looked down, to where the angel was pointing. It was Drum, in a prison cell. Ha! So he had been caught stealing, after all. The moron.   
“Did you really expect he wouldn’t get caught?” The angel questioned.   
“It was worth the risk.” King Piccolo smirked. “At least he won’t bother me in there.”   
“Why didn’t you send him to the Forest?” The angel asked. “Instead of Tambourine and Cymbal? Why did you give Drum this particular task?”   
“Because I wanted him to steal candy for me.” King Piccolo growled. “And I wanted those decorations down – and I didn’t care who did what! I just randomly chose them, what are you getting at!”   
“Drum took a hit for you, didn’t he?” The angel said. “He saved you from being trapped in the rice cooker.”   
“ _And_?” King Piccolo seethed. “It was his job. He was created to serve me, I wouldn’t expect anything less.”   
“Out of both tasks, Drum’s was the one that posed the least risk to his life.” The angel began. “Is that because out of all of your children, you value his existence the most?”   
“Wha – that is ridiculous!” King Piccolo screamed.

_**Dammit**_! He was so angry! He was truly livid – he felt like his head was about to explode! He was so filled with rage he could barely see – he had no idea he could even feel this angry! Even when he was being killed by a kid he didn’t feel like this – he couldn’t believe - - was he actually being accused of _caring_? Him, the great Demon King Piccolo? The horrible bastard who was historically famous for being pure evil? Was this guy serious suggesting that **he** was capable of caring for anyone? And of all people, that overweight moron who like his brothers had **failed** to defeat Son Goku? _**How dare he**_! “Who are you!” King Piccolo roared, turning on the angel. He glared at him angrily, his ki soaring so high it made the chains shake violently all over his body, so much that they almost cracked. His eyes were burning; his teeth were bared so fiercely he looked like he was about to tear off the angel’s head. The angel would be terrified, if he wasn’t so certain of his immortality against King Piccolo. “Tell me or I will rip you apart!”   
“Does that really matter?” The angel pleaded. “Piccolo – look at you existence! Is this really want you want? Your children in jail, or destroyed by villains even more powerful than you? All you have left is them, surely you can see that this is no way to exist –”  
“ _ **Shut up**_!” King Piccolo screamed. “You bleeding heart piece of crap! I don’t care about them! They all failed me, and you have absolutely no right to – what’s it to you, anyway! How do you even know about my children? How do you know about me?” 

He stared at the angel intently, studying him. Trying to figure out who this was. This had to be someone King Piccolo knew… Why else would he be so intent on putting King Piccolo through this ridiculous program? King Piccolo couldn’t see a single distinguishing feature; the angel was covered from head to toe by that hooded cloak. He was about King Piccolo’s height though, and his voice… It sounded somewhat familiar. King Piccolo thought he had heard it before, but he couldn’t remember… … Hm… But whoever he was, he was a do-gooder that was intent on turning King Piccolo good as well. He was a do-gooder; he was King Piccolo’s height, and he sounded familiar… … … _Aha_! Of course. King Piccolo figured it out. Yes! His voice wasn’t exactly the same, which was why King Piccolo hadn’t recognised him right away, but he must have altered his voice in an attempt to disguise himself. Ha! Well that hadn’t worked, the senile old slug! He couldn’t fool King Piccolo – and he was a fool himself if he believed that King Piccolo could ever change. He should know better than anyone that King Piccolo was **not** capable of change. “Give it up, Kami.” King Piccolo snarled.   
“What…?” The angel mumbled. He seemed taken aback… Well, he should do! He’d been found out! What, didn’t he think King Piccolo was smart enough to see through his disguise? Ha! The bastard.   
“Why are you doing this anyway? What, are you feeling guilty?” King Piccolo sniped. “Are you remembering all those poor innocent lives I took, after _you_ created me?” He smirked nastily, his eyes lighting with delight as he tormented his better half. This was beautiful… Christmas much be such a painful time for Kami, just thinking about all those poor, innocent families that were dead because of King Piccolo. Ha! Well King Piccolo was about to enjoy making him feel even worse. “Just because you were selfish and you wanted to have Earth under your control – don’t try to deny it, that’s what you wanted. You always did like power, whether you want to admit it or not. You cast me out just so you could become the guardian of Earth – was it worth it? Was satisfying your desire to be Kami worth all those poor, innocent lives?”   
“Piccolo - stop it!” The angel snapped. He was becoming unnerved, and King Piccolo’s smirk grew even wider. He suddenly felt rather elated! This bastard **was** Kami, and he was crumbling before King Piccolo’s very eyes. Haha, the old sap… He probably thought he was so smart, didn’t he? Changing his voice and putting on that ridiculous costume to disguise himself. Well however smart Kami thought he was, King Piccolo was smarter! He was the stronger side of them – he was the braver side, the powerful side, the manipulative side… He was everything Kami secretly wished he had the balls to be. Ha! And now King Piccolo had seen through Kami’s little disguise, of course. So… Kami wanted a night of revelations? Great! Wonderful idea! King Piccolo was more than willing to throw at him a few home truths.   
“The blood of every single life I took is on your hands.” King Piccolo hissed. “You created me. I’m here because of you, because of what **you** did. Everything I am, everything I’ve done, it’s all on your head, Kami.”   
“Stop! The angel cried. He seemed distress… Yes! That was what King Piccolo wanted. He wanted this to be horrible for Kami, he wanted him to feel like crap! It was all he deserved. “I’m not Kami!” The angel protested.   
“Oh, don’t give me that.” King Piccolo snorted. “I know you’re Kami, who else would you be? Frankly I think it’s ridiculous that you’re doing this – I thought you were convinced that I could never be good? What changed your mind, Junior? Don’t let him fool you, here’s a mere reflection of me. The evil in him is nothing like the evil in me –”  
“Piccolo, stop!” The angel yelled. “I am **not** Kami! How would that even work? Kami fused with Junior, he couldn’t be here even if he wanted to!” He let out a sigh, and lowered his head. “As nice as it would be for you to both be here… it’s impossible.”

King Piccolo flinched a little. What the hell? That didn’t make sense. The angel… didn’t seem to be lying. Something in his voice told King Piccolo that he was telling the truth. He… he wasn’t Kami. Wait, so then… who the fuck was he?   
“Well who are you!” King Piccolo demanded, his anger returning as quickly as it had left. “I have a right to know!”   
“You don’t. They assured me of that.” The angel spoke. “Now, if you don’t mind… we are behind schedule. Your escape in the past took up valuable time, we only have until midnight. So please… can we finish the program?” He sounded different… Saddened, slightly. What the hell? What was wrong with him?   
“Tell me who you are.” King Piccolo growled.   
“ _No_.” The angel sternly replied. “Now… do I need to knock you out again, or are you going to accompany me to the next vision like a good boy?”   
“Oh, shut up.” King Piccolo spat. He was confused. His mind raced as he tried to figure it out. If this guy wasn’t Kami then who was he? Dammit! Was it Junior? No… It didn’t sound like Junior. Or… another mutant? One that had decided to try being good? Hm… Perhaps that made sense… Perhaps that was why he kept banging on about King Piccolo’s children. Tch. Pathetic. What, did they want their daddy to suddenly say he loved them at Christmas time? How disgusting! It was pathetic! But… If this was a mutant, they would surely only be immortal for as long as the program lasted, then they would return to their usual weakened state… and King Piccolo would **kill** them. “Fine.” King Piccolo grunted, suddenly keen to reach the end of this ridiculous program. He couldn’t wait to kill this mutant. “Just get this shit over with – and see how different I’m not afterwards.”   
“… You really won’t be, will you?” The angel uttered. “You’re quite certain of that?”   
“ _Yes_.” King Piccolo hissed. “I promise, nothing you can show me will change me at all – I am evil and I always will be! And I do **not** care what happens to my children, let me make that perfectly clear!”   
“That is a terrible thing to say.” The angel said. “You know, some parents would do anything to be stuck with their children forever, and if you just changed your ways you could be stuck with them in a much nicer place than Hell.”   
“I’m not interested.” King Piccolo snarled. “Why would I ever want to become a weak little do-gooder, when I find it so much fun to terrorise the world?”   
“Why, indeed.” The angel sighed. He hesitated for a moment, as if he was thinking. About what, King Piccolo had no idea, but his patience was steadily running out. He clenched his fists angrily, the chains around his body rattling under the force of his anger as he glared at the ‘angel’. The disloyal little bastard… “Come on then.” The angel finally spoke. He took hold of King Piccolo’s arm, and everything turned white.


	4. Christmas Future

_I don't want a lot for Christmas_   
_There is just one thing I need_   
_I don't care about the presents_   
_Underneath the Christmas tree_   
_I just want you for my own_   
_More than you could ever know_   
_Make my wish come true oh_   
_All I want for Christmas is you_

King Piccolo stood impatiently as the angel took hold of his arm, and for a moment everything was white. He didn’t feel himself move, but when the whiteness started to fade King Piccolo wasn’t in Hell anymore, and he looked around at his new surroundings. It was… a house? A big house, actually. On Christmas day. There were Christmas decorations everywhere, a warm fire, Christmas music playing… What was this? Another song about loneliness? What was the theme here! Wasn’t this ridiculous program supposed to encourage people to be good? or were they supposed to get depressed enough to erase themselves from existence so there’d be one less bad soul for Hell to deal with? Actually, King Piccolo would find that preferable to becoming a good soul… The thought of spending eternity as a perfect angel horrified him.   
“Go ahead Pan, open it up!” A voice came from behind him… _Tear_!  
“ **Eeee**! Thank you!” What? Who was that?

King Piccolo turned around, to see a giant Christmas tree coated in decorations and surrounded by presents, some open, some not… and opening the presents it was… _Goku’s_ family? Oh – were these Goku’s runts? Yes! King Piccolo’s eyes widened as he stared at the scene in anger, and he gritted his teeth so hard he almost broke his own jaw. There he was… Son Goku! And there was that wife of his next to him, and their children and their grandchild and – _**what**_!  
“Junior!” King Piccolo gasped, his fists clenching so tightly his palms started to bleed. Ohhhhh, he was angry. He was more than angry – he was livid! He was manic, he was - - _**furious**_! Piccolo Junior – **his** son, his own flesh and blood, the child he had created to take out Son Goku and avenge him – he was sitting amongst Goku’s family with that little girl – she was _hugging_ him! Goku’s grandchild was hugging Junior, and he was hugging her back! What the **fuck**!  
“You’re welcome.” Piccolo Junior smiled fondly at Pan. “Merry Christmas, Pan.” Oh, _**what**_? Had he bought her a gift? This was bullcrap!   
“ _ **Traitor**_!”  
“No!”

Just as King Piccolo was preparing to blast the entire scene away with his eye lasers, the angel slammed his hand in front of King Piccolo’s face. “It won’t work. They can’t see you or hear you. You will have absolutely no impact here.”   
“Wh-Why not!” King Piccolo demanded, his rage so great he could hardly speak the words. His eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of his skull; his chains rattled as his body shook all over; his veins bulged and throbbed all over his forehead. He looked like he was about to explode under his own rage. “I want to blow that worthless little traitor to **pieces**!”  
“That’s why.” The angel replied calmly. “We can’t let you blow up your own child.”   
“Why the fuck not!” King Piccolo screamed. “I killed people in the past and you didn’t give a crap about that – what difference will it make if I kill everyone here as well!”   
“… It won’t make a difference. They’re just visions.” The angel said. He paused, and turned his head away. “I just… don’t want you to.”   
“ _ **Why**_!” King Piccolo screamed. “Let me do it or I swear I’ll blow up **you**!”  
“No!” The angel barked, seemingly irritated by his aggression. He looked back at King Piccolo, his face still concealed by his hood. “You aren’t here to become angry, you’re here to learn what your life could be like. Look…” He gestured towards the scene. “Your child has made peace with himself. He has made peace with his enemies, and look what a wonderful Christmas he is having. In a warm house, with food and water, surrounded by people that love and care for him. Don’t you want that for –”  
“ _ **Shut the hell up**_!” King Piccolo screamed. “I’m never heard such drivel in my life – you’re talking absolute shit! He isn’t at peace, he’s just weak! He was too weak to defeat Son Goku so he just gave up, that’s all! He’s lazy! He’s lazy and weak and he’s treacherous and – let me out of these damn chains _**now**_!”

He threw himself to the floor and began rolling around manically, slamming himself into the ground in a fierce attempt to break himself free. He felt his bones crack under the force of his movements; the metal of his chains dug into him with every impact so hard that he was soon bruised from head to toe, but he didn’t give up. The longer he remained captive by his chains, the angrier he became. His ki spiralled out of control, he screamed and snarled like a wild animal, cursing and yelling. “Let me out, you bastard! I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill every single one of you! I’ll kill him! I’ll kill Junior and I’ll kill Goku and his children and that little girl and **fuck** I’ll kill you all! Fuck you! Fuck all of you! Fuck fuck fuck fuck _**fuck**_!”

The angel simply watched, allowing King Piccolo to fling himself into exhaustion. He was only hurting himself… As much as the angel didn’t like to see it, King Piccolo didn’t seem overly concerned about his own pain. He was too angry to care. … Hm. Actually… No. Perhaps waiting it out wasn’t the answer. King Piccolo wasn’t about to stop anytime soon, and he would seriously hurt himself if he carried on. The angel didn’t want that.   
“Stop.” He ordered, and threw his weight onto King Piccolo to keep him in place.   
“No!” King Piccolo snarled. “How dare you order me to do anything! I’ve had enough of this – this ludicrous façade! I **cannot** change! Junior changed because he is weak and has forgotten who he really is, but I will **never** be that pathetic! I am the Demon King Piccolo, and I will forever live up to my name – now _**let me go**_!”  
“Alright! Alright!” The angel sighed, loosening his grip on King Piccolo. “Just…” He looked down at King Piccolo’s bruised body, and sighed. “You’re… so stubborn. Look what you’ve done –”  
“Stop it!” King Piccolo snapped, flinching away from his gloved hand. “Don’t touch me!”   
“But it looks sore – _**aii**_!” The angel howled in pain as King Piccolo sank his razor sharp teeth into his hand, just as the angel attempted to touch him once more. “Let go!” He shrieked.   
“Ngg!” King Piccolo snarled, his eyes lighting up with malice at the sight of the angel’s pain. Enjoying every second of this, a vicious smirk forming on King Piccolo’s face and he sank his teeth further into the angel’s hand, and became to pull.   
“No! Stop!” The angel gasped. “Piccolo, I am **warning** you – **arrgh**!” He let out a loud, agonising scream as King Piccolo tore off his hand.

King Piccolo watched with a cold, sadistic smirk on his face as the angel slammed his palm onto his bleeding wrist, groaning and panting in agony. Haha… King Piccolo felt elated. Yes! That bastard got what he deserved! Maybe now he would put an end to this bullshit –

_Swish_! What? King Piccolo flinched slightly as the blood from the angel’s wrist splattered around them, suddenly thrown by the new hand that had sprouted from his stump. Oh… So he could regenerate? Then – that was it! King Piccolo was right!   
“You **are** my son!” He barked, absolutely certain that this time he really had identified this jackass. “You’re one of those retarded mutants I created at the start of my reign!”   
“I’m… not… commenting.” The angel hissed through what certainly sounded like gritted teeth; King Piccolo still hadn’t seen his face. Not that he had to. He’d only made three styles of children back then, and they all looked like Tambourine, Cymbal or Drum. King Piccolo could see enough to know this angel had no horns under his hood, and he was far too slim to look like Drum. That only left Tambourine. Hm… But he had no wings… Unless he had altered his appearance, to disguise himself? Yes… that must be it. Not that it was much of a disguise. King Piccolo could see right through it! “I can’t believe you bit off my hand!” The angel barked. Oh, he sounded angry. King Piccolo’s smirk widened, fuelled by the anger in the angel’s voice. **Now** he was enjoying himself. “You’re disgusting!”   
“What did you expect? You took me out of Hell.” King Piccolo retorted. “What did you think I was doing there, sightseeing?”   
“Yes, but I… I had no idea how… ‘awful’ you had become.” The angel mumbled.   
“What – give it up!” King Piccolo barked. “You can’t fool me, I know you’re my child – and let me remind you of all the awful things **you** did when you were alive! And you enjoyed it! Don’t come crying to me just because you’ve gone soft, you pathetic piece of crap!”   
“That is how you would speak to your child…?” The angel mumbled. He hung his head, and spoke in a sorrowful tone. “I pity you, Piccolo. So many loyal children, and you don’t show them an ounce of respect.” He let out a sigh, and turned back to the scene. “Let’s just finish this. Look there.”

King Piccolo snorted, and looked back at Junior and the Son family. But… it wasn’t them anymore. It was Junior… and him. Him, Piano, Tambourine, Cymbal, Drum… and all of the other mutants. There were thousands of them – they were everywhere! And they weren’t in Hell, but they had halos on their head… were they in…? “This could be you.” The angel spoke. “If you change, your children will follow. You won’t be alive, but you will be happy up there. Then, when it’s Junior’s time to go, he can spend an eternity with you. Wouldn’t that be lovely?”   
“An eternity with Junior?” King Piccolo spat. “I’d sooner be erased.”   
“How can you say that?” The angel replied. “Look at him… he’s wonderful. They all are. You have beautiful children, Piccolo.”   
“Beautiful?” King Piccolo sniggered, looking at the horrendous display of a few thousand mutants at Christmas time. They were all laughing and playing together, talking excitedly, hugging… But it was a freak show! King Piccolo had never noticed, but those mutants looked even more ridiculous when they smiled. They weren’t supposed to look like that! They weren’t supposed to act like that! They were supposed to be evil!   
“Well… the others may not be lookers.” The angel chuckled. “But an ugly face doesn’t mean an ugly heart. If you guide them, they can be beautiful on the inside. You can all be happy together.” He paused for a moment, then he… sniffed. A couple of times, actually. Was he… crying? Why the hell was he crying? “You have no idea how lucky you are.”   
“Why do you keep saying that?” King Piccolo demanded. “What’s it to you? You want us to be one big happy family, is that it?”   
“I would like that very much.” The angel replied. He paused for a moment, as if he were thinking. “… It’s almost midnight.” He stated. “Come on. I just have one more vision before you can go back.”   
“What – no!” King Piccolo barked. “We did all of them! Past, present and future! There’s no more left!”   
“Oh, but we’re having so much fun.” The angel chuckled. “Let’s go right up until midnight, it’s only a couple of minutes away.” He placed his arm around King Piccolo’s shoulders and pulled him into a semi-hug. “Come on. You might like this last one.”   
“Is it a future where I’m king of Earth?” King Piccolo snarled. The angel simply laughed and fondly patted King Piccolo’s head, which King Piccolo flinched away from with a cold glare. What was this guy’s problem? The creep! He was about to go for the angel’s hand again, when everything turned white.


	5. Christmas Further Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried when I wrote this chapter...

_I'll be home for Christmas;_   
_You can plan on me._   
_Please have snow and mistletoe_   
_And presents on the tree._

Once again, King Piccolo found himself in a change of scenery. This was… different though. He didn’t recognise it, but it seemed somewhat familiar. Was this… Earth? But… where exactly? There were plants, trees, flowers, mountains… It certainly looked like Earth, but King Piccolo didn’t recognise any of it. Why had the angel brought him here?   
“Do you know where we are?” The angel questioned.   
“Earth.” King Piccolo grunted. “Where, on Earth?”   
“No, it’s not Earth.” The angel answered. “But… you’re right, it does look like it. Back then, this place was very similar to Earth – that was why they chose Earth when they sent you away.”   
“What are you talking about?” King Piccolo growled. “Away from where?”   
“Namek, of course.” The angel said. “Your first home.”   
“Namek?” King Piccolo frowned.

He looked around. Namek? Was this supposed to be Namek? No… that wasn’t right. This wasn’t Namek! King Piccolo had never been, but he had seen images of Planet Namek from Hell – it was a lifeless, barren planet with barely any greenery in sight. This place was brimming with plant life – it couldn’t be more scenic. It had to be Earth. “This isn’t Namek.” King Piccolo said stubbornly.   
“Haha.” The angel chuckled. “It looks different, hm? This is Namek, Piccolo. It was what Namek looked like when you were a child – before the change in climate took all its life. You grew up here.” He paused for a moment, admiring their heavenly surroundings. “… It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”   
“Tch. if you’re into plants.” King Piccolo snorted. “Why have you brought me here?”   
“You wanted to know who I am.” The angel replied. “I thought I would show you, with another vision. Look.” He pointed, and King Piccolo followed his finger.

What was that…? In the near distance, there was a building. Namekian children were coming out of it… Hm. So this really was Namek? It looked so different. … … Well. Whatever. That was none of King Piccolo’s concern. He watched the building as children continued to pour from its doors, while Namekian adults were standing outside its fence. What was going on? It looked like…  
“Is that a school?” King Piccolo questioned.   
“Yes.” The angel nodded. “Come. Look closer.” He took hold of the still chained King Piccolo, and flew them over to get a closer look. 

_Christmas Eve will find me_  
Where the love light gleams.   
I'll be home for Christmas  
If only in my dreams.

King Piccolo watched the scene curiously, studying the children as they came out of the school. They were shouting to each other… It was a foreign language. Of course. It was Namekian! What did that word mean again…? King Piccolo felt like he recognised it, but he struggled to remember… “Bye.” The angel repeated the children’s words, in a language King Piccolo could understand. “See you tomorrow.”   
“… Hm.” King Piccolo grunted. As soon as the angel spoke the words, he recognised them. Yes, they were. The children were saying bye. So what, was school over? There was no way to tell the time in this ridiculous place – it never went dark! “Why have you brought me here?” King Piccolo demanded, turning away from the scene. He didn’t need to see this. He could guess where this was going – and he didn’t like it! One of those kids was him, wasn’t it? Of course it was, why else would he be here? He knew that was what the angel was going to say. Tch. well, it was wrong. This wasn’t King Piccolo; this wasn’t his childhood. King Piccolo was born on **Earth** , the day he and Kami separated. Whatever child lived on Namek, it wasn’t King Piccolo. It was nothing more than a mere vision of his former self; of the creature he and Kami had once formed. It wasn’t the true him. It wasn’t his soul, his name, his body… This wasn’t his childhood – and this wasn’t his home. “Aren’t you supposed to be showing me Christmas?” King Piccolo growled, glaring at the angel. He didn’t have the patience for this… What were they doing here!   
“Well… Nameks don’t have Christmas, Piccolo.” The angel reasoned. “But this is you, at Christmas time when you were…” He looked at the children and went quiet, thinking. “Oh… six, maybe? Look – there you are.”

_I'll be home for Christmas;_  
You can plan on me.   
Please have snow and mistletoe   
And presents on the tree.

King Piccolo moved his eyes, to see two Namekian children walking through the school gates together, eagerly talking as if they hadn’t just spent the entire day sat next to each other in class. Tch. So one of those was him? Yeah, right! They both looked like weak little brats. And if one was King Piccolo, then who was the other…?  
“Is that you?” King Piccolo grunted, working it out in seconds. This was hardly rocket science. He turned to look at the angel. “Show me your face!” He ordered. “That’s you and me, isn’t it? What, were we friends or something?” Oh… right. He understood it now. He understood it completely. Suddenly, it all made sense. He’d been wrong. This guy wasn’t Kami, or his child… it was his friend. His childhood friend. Oh, that was sickening… So what, was King Piccolo supposed to be moved by this little vision? Was he supposed to take one look at this weak Namekian runt and become flooded with emotions? Ha! So this was what this entire program had been building up to? All the crap King Piccolo had been through tonight, it had all been leading up to this? This – recycled clip of his childhood! Was it supposed to change his heart forever? Was he supposed to ‘remember who he was’ and turn back into that good soul? Yeah, right! King Piccolo snorted. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not the same anymore. I have absolutely no interest in being your friend – I don’t even remember you.” He smirked. “And based on what I’ve seen so far, I think you’re pathetic. You are the last person in the universe that I would ever want on my side. So… sorry. I guess this night has been a waste of time. That’s a shame for you.”   
“Hah.” The angel chuckled a little. He didn’t say anything, he just patted King Piccolo’s head. “Always so strong, and always so stubborn. You get that from me.”   
“Humph! You mean **you** get it from me!” King Piccolo growled. “If either one of us was a bad influence, it was **me**! You were just a mindless follower!”   
“You always did have that leadership quality about you.” The angel spoke. “Whenever the kids teamed up to do something bad, you were always behind it.” He watched as the two children made their way to two adults, who were talking amongst themselves at the school gates. The children interrupted their parents’ conversation, and the parents looked down to greet them… “But… who could say no to those eyes?” 

The angel turned his head to look at King Piccolo. He still wasn’t revealing his face, but somehow… King Piccolo had this feeling that he was smiling. Why was he smiling? It was… unnerving. “I rarely could.” The angel spoke. “Except, of course… when you begged me to let you stay.”   
“W…” King Piccolo choked. Let him stay? What… what was he talking about?   
“And believe me, it caused me great pain to say no.” What…? What did he mean? King Piccolo’s throat suddenly felt dry. He couldn’t speak another word. He couldn’t make another sound. He felt… nervous. If it was nerves. It was something; something King Piccolo had never known before. Slowly and steadily a cold, sharp feeling started to rise up in his chest as he stared at the cloaked angel. His body tensed; his face went pale. Who…? Who was this…?   
“Katas.”

King Piccolo jerked his head to the sound of one of the adults talking, and he saw them looking at each other. He could understand them. That language – it was all coming back to him now. He understood every word. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”   
“Okay.” The second adult nodded. “See you tomorrow.” He picked up his child, and placed him on his shoulders. King Piccolo stared at the child in awe. He looked familiar. He looked like… Junior. Junior, but darker. Junior, but with… King Piccolo’s eyes… “So.” Katas spoke, effortlessly carrying his child on his shoulders as they headed home. “Did you behave yourself today, Little One?”   
“Mostly.” The child answered with a teasing grin, and tugged at his father’s ears. “Yep!”   
“Are you sure?” Katas laughed. “If you didn’t, I’ll find out. I know **everything**.”

King Piccolo took a step back, his eyes wide and his mouth dry. His heart was racing; he could barely breathe. In fact he was so distracted by the sharpness in his chest that he didn’t even notice the angel had removed his chains.   
“Piccolo.”   
“Ngg!” King Piccolo could barely do any more than grunt as he turned sharply towards the angel’s voice, his body shaking. No… No…  
“If you want to ask me who I am,” The angel spoke. “I’ll answer now.”   
“Wh…” King Piccolo breathed. “Who…?”

He watched as the angel removed his hood, revealing a face that matched the second adult. Katas… … He looked familiar. That smile…  
“You were right, before.” Katas stated. “When you said I was Kami – I mean, I’m not Kami…” He uttered. “But… you do exist because of me. In every possible way.” He approached King Piccolo, who was too stunned to even flinch when Katas placed a tender hand on his head. “You are what you are because you spent your life alone… and that was my fault.” His eyes were glistening. He was crying. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. Why wasn’t he trying to hide it…? Wasn’t he embarrassed…? Why… Why was he here…? “I sent you to Earth because I wanted you to survive, more than anything.” Katas spoke. “But I was so obsessed with keeping you alive, that I didn’t even stop to think what kind of life you would have, away from everything you’d ever known. … And for that I am sorry. I… I want you to know that.” He wiped his eyes and exhaled, blinking back just enough tears to allow him to see. He didn’t want to take his eyes off King Piccolo, not for a second. Not when they had such little time left. He’d been waiting for this moment for over three hundred years. There was no way in the world he was going to waste it now. “I’m sorry to have put you through this, my child. I knew you wouldn’t like it.” Katas chuckled. “And I knew you wouldn’t change. Actually, you don’t even qualify for this rehabilitation program, they said you’ve been far too bad to deserve a second chance.” He smirked a little. “But… fortunately for me, I’ve been very good this year so they allowed me a Christmas wish…” He smiled at King Piccolo. “And I wished to spend time with you. My beautiful child.” He trailed his finger down King Piccolo’s face, staring at him so intently it was as if his eyes were made of stone. They weren’t blinking; they didn’t dare look away… the only thing that could ever break their gaze were his tears. Katas wiped his eyes once more, and smiled at King Piccolo. “I’m going to hug you now.”   
“W…”

_Christmas Eve will find me  
Where the love light gleams._

King Piccolo flinched as Katas approached him, and wrapped his arms around him. He was so warm… The warmth was… familiar…? King Piccolo couldn’t tell. He recognised Katas, and he didn’t. He didn’t know how to feel… He didn’t know what to remember. He didn’t… know anything anymore. He’d never felt like this. He’d never felt uncertain, or… whatever the hell this feeling was. What was going on…?  
“They only gave me until midnight.” Katas whispered, holding his face against King Piccolo’s cheek. This felt familiar… King Piccolo knew this. There would be a warmth on his head, what was that again…? Where did that come from…? “So if it’s all the same to you, I’ll just stay here until I disappear.” He tightened his grip on King Piccolo, and planted a small kiss on his forehead. King Piccolo swallowed, recognising that warmth. He couldn’t remember it, but… he knew it. How…? “Please… you have to know. I never stopping loving you, Little One.” Katas spoke softly. “I didn’t want to send you away. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by where I haven’t missed you. You’re my baby. I want you to remember that.”   
“K…” King Piccolo tried to speak. He couldn’t. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do. He was… numb. Confused. What was happening to him…? 

He turned his head to watch the father and child, as if the distraction would help him think straight at all. He kept his eyes on the child, watching as the boy loosely held onto his father’s head. Was that him…? As King Piccolo watched the scene, he remembered… something. He remembered being very high… He would stare at the ground, and think he was a giant. His father would tell him to hold on, but he wouldn’t listen. He thought he was invincible. He would lie about how he’d behaved in school, but then he’d tell the truth right away. There was no point in lying. Katas… always knew. How did King Piccolo know that? Why was he remembering…? “Katas…?”

_Dong_! Suddenly, There was a noise, like a clock striking – … midnight. Midnight…? Did that mean…?   
“Merry Christmas, my child.” Katas’s voice came from near King Piccolo. He sounded much further away than he was. “I love you.”

King Piccolo let out a sharp gasp as the warmth of Katas’s arms started to disappear. He turned his head to look at him, but… Katas was gone. Just like that. King Piccolo slammed his hands onto his chest, frantically feeling as if he would find Katas there. He spun around, looking for him. He was nowhere. Nowhere except in that vision, which was growing more and more distant… and then everything went white. 

_I'll be home for Christmas  
If only in my dreams_


	6. Christmas Day

_So here it is Merry Christmas_   
_Everybody's having fun_   
_Look to the future now,_   
_It's only just begun_

When the whiteness faded, King Piccolo wasn’t on Namek anymore. He was… back in Hell. He was in his cave, in the exact same spot as if he’d never left. The only thing different was that there was now cheerful Christmas music playing at an irritating volume, accompanied by a thousand voices screaming throughout Hell,   
“ _ **Merry Christmas**_!” Argh… King Piccolo could hear them outside the window. Why were they so loud? 

He tried to block out the noise of the celebrators. He tried to figure out what had happened to him. Was it all real? Those visions, had he really seen them? Had he… had he seen his…?  
“King Piccolo?”

King Piccolo turned, to see Piano standing there. He was holding three glasses. Why…? “I could only find these three, Sire.” Piano said. Oh… right. King Piccolo remembered now. He’d sent Piano out to get a replacement glass. Hm… Well, three was acceptable, King Piccolo supposed.   
“Okay.” He grunted, and continued looking around, as if he didn’t quite believe he was here. Piano stared at his master, somewhat confused. King Piccolo seemed kind of out of it…  
“Are you… okay, Sire?” Piano questioned.   
“Yes.” King Piccolo mumbled, half-dazed and not really listening to the question. Then it occurred to him what Piano had asked. Okay? Was he _okay_? Of course he was okay! King Piccolo blinked, suddenly snapping himself out of - - whatever this was, and he immediately returned his face to its usual fierce, confident self. “Of course!” King Piccolo barked. “Why wouldn’t I be?”   
“Oh – no reason, it’s just…” Piano started to answer, but decided he would be safer if he just dropped it. He didn’t want to get erased. “It’s nothing, Sire. Just me being foolish.”

Piano looked at King Piccolo, somewhat nervously. He was about to change the subject, and he was dreading King Piccolo’s response to what he was about to say. But… it had to be said. “It’s, um… it’s past midnight, King Piccolo.” Piano uttered quietly. “It’s Christmas Day.”   
“Yes I know that!” King Piccolo snarled. “Where are your brothers?”   
“Oh – Drum got arrested.” Piano explained. “Tambourine and Cymbal are trying to break him out.”   
“Hm.” King Piccolo snorted. Well, that would be a grand failure. They’d end up in jail themselves! Still… whatever. That worked well for him; he needed some time by himself. To… think. About whatever the hell he had just seen. “Go and help them.” King Piccolo ordered.   
“Me?” Piano blinked.   
“Yes!” King Piccolo barked. “Is there anybody else here? Go! Now!”   
“… Yes, King Piccolo.” Piano mumbled. He reluctantly left the cave, silently cursing King Piccolo for getting him arrested on Christmas Day. 

King Piccolo looked around at his surroundings, still in wonder. It was all the same. Nothing was different; there was nothing to say that anybody else had been here. Had it all been some kind of dream? But why would he dream such a thing? And if it had been real, then… then why would… Why would Katas want to spend Christmas Eve with **him**? Didn’t he know how evil he was? He was… the Demon King Piccolo, and he was bad company. Didn’t Katas know…?   
_“… Piano.”_ King Piccolo spoke to his child telepathically. He wanted to get to the bottom of this. If he had been taken by Katas, then maybe Piano or someone else had seen it. They could verify it.   
_“Yes, King Piccolo?”_ Came Piano’s response.   
_“Did – …”_ King Piccolo stopped. No, he… he couldn’t. He couldn’t ask. He didn’t want to. He suddenly felt… very embarrassed. All of a sudden, he didn’t want anybody to know about tonight. He didn’t want anybody to know that he’d seen his father, and that Katas… … that Katas had said some stupid things, in a pathetic emotional display. It was ridiculous. _“… Nothing.”_ King Piccolo grunted. _“Wait there. I’ll break Drum out. You idiots will screw it up.”_ He left the cave, and pushed this whole of Christmas Eve to the back of his mind.

xxxxx

**Merry Christmas everybody!**  
I hope you all liked this little fic. I’ll admit, I cried when writing the last chapter n_n’ I have no regrets! Thank you very much for reading, and please give me your feedback. Then have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year! Take care everybody!

xxxxx

Songs featured:

Elvis Presley – Blue Christmas  
Mud – Lonely This Christmas  
Mariah Carey – All I Want For Christmas Is You  
Bing Crosby – I’ll Be Home For Christmas   
Slade – Merry Christmas Everybody


End file.
